Hello my dears! You all are so freaking awesome with all the kind words, thank you so much. Colonel Fitzwilliam is being a great friend to Elizabeth, and Charles is being a great brother. Now, in tis chapter, we at last get ODB thrown into he mix.
(I know what you're all thinking ... It's about time!)
Chapter Six
Fitzwilliam Darcy was just sitting behind the desk in his study when he heard the faint sound of knocking on the front door of Darcy House. He sat slowly, curiosity creasing his brow as he wondered who would call so early—it was well before accepted calling hours and the knocker was not even on the door.
The mystery visitor was soon revealed to be his long-absent cousin. "Theodore!" Darcy cried, standing again to move around the desk and embrace the other man, as it had been four years since the last time they had been in the same room.
"Hello, cousin!" Fitzwilliam said as he heartily returned the embrace. "It is so good to see you again—it has been far too long!"
"Indeed, it has," Darcy replied as they stood back from one another. "When did you get back to England?"
"A few days ago, but I was still on duty until last evening," Fitzwilliam replied. "I was escorting the general's niece home after the death of her aunt, and my assignment was to see her to her brother's door. So, I have done. We docked at Plymouth, was there for a night, then traveled to Surrey that Mrs. Martin could see her family and inform him of their uncle's death. Stayed there for a night and came into London last night, though it was late when we reached Grosvenor Street. Do you know, I had no idea you were acquainted with Miss Bingley's—that is, Miss Elizabeth's—brother."
Darcy's brows rose. "Bingley? I thought the lady you escorted was married?"
Fitzwilliam laughed. "No, no. Mrs. Martin was the lady's chaperone. Her husband and Bingley's aunt—sister of their late father, as I understand it—were among an unfortunately large number we lost to a terrible fever little more than a month ago. General Halsey determined that in the absence of his wife, his niece—Miss Elizabeth Bingley—could no longer remain with the regiment, and Mrs. Martin and I were assigned to escort her home."
He frowned. "Did your friend never tell you he had three sisters?"
Darcy nodded. "He did, yes, but as I have yet to meet the youngest of them, I quite forgot her name. And she is your general's niece?"
"Small world, eh, Darcy?" said Fitzwilliam with a laugh as Darcy moved back around the desk to sit.
"Small world indeed, Theodore," he mused. "Do sit down, cousin."
Fitzwilliam stepped around the single visitor's chair and lowered himself into it. Darcy sat back in his own and regarded him for a moment, then said,
"So, what brings you by today? Have you need of a place to stay?"
His cousin chuckled. "Technically no—I could easily stay at Disley House, but you must already know that my parents and siblings are already in Cheshire for the summer, and I do not like to be alone among the servants."
Darcy did know. Fitzwilliam had once confessed on his last leave of absence that after living with his regiment for so long, a place of quiet was disconcerting, and a house with only one occupant—the servants not withstanding—was certainly a quiet one.
With a soft sigh, he said, "Well, until your parents return to London to see you—or demand you join them in Cheshire—you are welcome to stay here with Georgiana and me. Although…"
Recalling then the reason he remained in London himself, Darcy paused. He wondered how he would explain to Fitzwilliam the circumstances which kept him and his sister there.
"Darcy, what is it?" his cousin asked. "Has something happened to Georgiana?"
Darcy breathed a deeper sigh, knowing he had no other choice but to tell him; his cousin was, after all, co-guardian of his sister.
"Did you receive my letter regarding my decision to take Georgiana out of school and set her up here with a companion?" he asked.
Fitzwilliam nodded. "I did get that letter, yes. What about it? Could you not find anyone respectable enough?"
"No, I did—or at least, I thought I had," Darcy replied. "In the lady's character, I am sorry to say, I was most unhappily deceived. She had all the proper letters of recommendation required, but she also had a secret relationship with Wickham."
The last word he said with a slight snarl. Such anger at another person he had never felt before, and it was his own former friend which had stirred it in him.
"Wickham?" barked Fitzwilliam, his expression shifting to a scowl. "What did that blackguard do to my little cousin?"
"Do you recall how I have taken Georgiana to Ramsgate each summer since our parents died, to spend some weeks together just the two of us?" Darcy asked. His cousin nodded. "Well, I had some unexpected business come up as we were preparing to depart this summer, and as I did not wish to delay my sister's happiness, I sent her ahead with her companion. Wickham went thither also, undoubtedly by design, and spent the better part of the first fortnight of their stay making himself agreeable to Georgiana and persuading her to believe herself in love with him."
He paused and drew a breath to settle his growing ire. It pained him to recall the events of only a few weeks ago, but there was yet more to say.
"Wickham, with the assistance of Mrs. Younge, convinced Georgiana to agree to an elopement. He had led her to believe that their marriage was the only way to mend the discord between us, and she—recalling only the young man who had been kind to her as a child—was only too eager to see us become friends again.
"I happened to finish my business earlier than I expected, and as I had been so delayed already, I went on to Ramsgate from town without writing ahead. It is a good thing I did, as I arrived just a day before the planned elopement."
Fitzwilliam expelled a breath. "Thank God," said he. "Allow me to guess that upon your appearance, dear Georgiana—unable to grieve a brother she looks up to almost as a father—readily confessed the whole?"
Darcy inclined his head. "She did, thankfully. Oh, how I wished, Theodore, that I could have called him out, but sensitivity to the feelings and credit of my sister prevented my doing so. Instead, I convinced him to leave the place at once, and I immediately dismissed Mrs. Younge from her charge."
Fitzwilliam was scowling again, and he pounded one fist into the palm of the other hand. "You may not have felt yourself able to call him out, but I have no such qualms. Have you any idea where he is now?"
"I do not know, and frankly, I do not care," Darcy returned. "I made it clear that I never wanted to set eyes on him again, and that if I discovered he was using my family's name to run up accounts, I'd take those and all the other debts I've collected over the years and see to it that he spent the next decade in Marshalsea."
"Well, if I ever see him," said Fitzwilliam, "he won't live long enough for you to make good on your word."
Darcy didn't dare question the veracity of his cousin's statement. He would not simply kill Wickham in cold blood—he was too honourable for such an action. Fitzwilliam would, however, challenge him to a duel that Wickham was guaranteed to lose.
"How does Georgiana fare?" Fitzwilliam asked then.
"After I explained to her that Wickham's only design was to get his hands on her fortune—"
"And to revenge himself on you, I imagine," piped up Fitzwilliam with a snort.
Darcy nodded. "Yes, that as well, I do not doubt. After all was said and done, she retreated into herself. I am certain you recall that Georgiana was always rather shy, but it's become much worse. She never leaves her rooms. I mean to engage another companion for her, with every intention of scrutinizing their references much more closely, for she is at the age where a lady's influence is most necessary."
"Hopefully the lady will also be able to bring her out of her shell, as it were," Fitzwilliam mused. "Do you think she might welcome a visit?"
"From her favorite cousin? Certainly, though I would not count on her saying much," Darcy warned.
Fitzwilliam grinned and clapped his hands together as he stood. "Challenge accepted, Darcy!" he said, then he turned about and strode from the room.
Darcy shook his head as he watched him go, and while he doubted his cousin's success with his sister, he also hoped for it. He was beginning to feel rather desperate, having failed in his own efforts to draw Georgiana out of her room. Nothing he had tried since their return from Ramsgate—trips to the museums, Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens, even a visit to her favorite modiste—had worked.
"No, thank you, Fitzwilliam," she would say, before turning her gaze from his.
He would ask if she was certain and receive only silence in response. Her lady's maid, who was always with Georgiana these days, would glance at him with a concerned expression before returning her attention to whatever task she had been occupying herself with.
Half an hour passed before Darcy saw Fitzwilliam again, this time meeting him in the drawing room. His cousin fell unceremoniously into the chair opposite where Darcy had chosen to read a book.
"Blimey, Darcy," he bemoaned. "She really has gone almost silent."
Darcy placed his finger on the paragraph where he'd stopped reading and closed the book over it. "Did she speak to you at all?"
"Not much, as you predicted," his cousin began. "For an instant she seemed happy to see me, then suddenly she started crying. I went to comfort her, and after several minutes she mumbled her surprise that I had come to call, as she believed me as disappointed in her as you are."
"I am not disappointed in Georgiana!" Darcy cried softly. "I am worried about her. And I am enraged at what Wickham has done to destroy her confidence in herself."
"And have you told her so?" Fitzwilliam asked, then held up his hand as Darcy drew breath to speak. "Foolish question, of course you have."
Darcy nodded. "Indeed. I have tried everything I can think of to lift her spirits and she does not respond. She will not leave her room."
Fitzwilliam lifted a hand to his chin and rubbed it thoughtfully. "I have an idea," he said after a moment. "Perhaps a friend would be helpful."
"A friend for Georgiana?" Darcy queried.
"Aye, a friend for her," Fitzwilliam replied. "Someone who can be sympathetic but will not smother her with concern as we are likely to do."
Darcy chuckled mirthlessly. "I have tried not to do that, I assure you."
His cousin nodded. "And I will endeavour not to as well, but a female friend is the best remedy for what ails the female heart. Or so I have heard."
Fitzwilliam frowned then. "Do my parents know what happened? Philip? The girls?"
Darcy shook his head. "No, I've not spoken to your parents, your brother, or your sisters. I have endeavoured to keep knowledge of the entire affair to as few as are absolutely necessary. And while they are family, I did not think it absolutely necessary that they should know."
"Father could have helped you track Wickham down," Fitzwilliam pointed out.
"He could have, but as I said before, I don't care where he is. I only care that he stays away from me and my sister."
Fitzwilliam sighed, the sound carrying a touch of aggravation. Darcy knew that his cousin believed he should have taken George Wickham to task years ago, but his father's good opinion of the lout had prevented him from publicly disgracing him.
Now, he could not even if he wished to, for fear of Wickham exposing Georgiana to ridicule and ruin.
"Have you anyone in mind that might prove a suitable friend to Georgiana?" Darcy asked then. "I had thought a new companion might serve to bring her out of her shell, but I've yet to interview a candidate whose qualifications and manner suit me."
"I actually know the perfect young lady—Miss Elizabeth Bingley," Fitzwilliam replied.
Darcy's brows rose with his dubiousness at the notion. "I do not know, cousin… If Miss Elizabeth is anything like her sisters, I do not believe she would be an appropriate companion for my sister."
Fitzwilliam barked a laugh. "Oh Darcy, I can assure you, they are nothing alike! Miss Elizabeth is rather more like her brother than her sisters. Bingley, by the way, seems a capital fellow, though not the sort that I'd expect you to associate with, given his connections—or lack thereof."
"Bingley's fortune may come from trade, but the family is a respectable one, for the most part," Darcy offered. "The young man is lively, well-mannered, and more intelligent than he at first appears. His father was wise enough to recommend he attend Cambridge instead of Oxford, and he has a natural gift for getting people to like him."
His cousin laughed again. "Ah ha, I see why you like him so much! You are hopeful that his more amiable manner will teach you how to be more comfortable in company."
Darcy smiled ruefully. "I admit that was my hope," said he.
"Has it worked?" Fitzwilliam asked.
Darcy shook his head and chuckled. "Not really," he confessed. "But I still enjoy his company even if he has not helped me be more at ease."
"And his connection with you must certainly have opened more doors for him than even his relatively new money would have done," Fitzwilliam observed.
Again, Darcy inclined his head. "No doubt it has, and I am happy to be of service to Bingley in that regard, even if his outgoing nature has yet to rub off on me—or never does."
Fitzwilliam clapped his hands to his knees then and stood. "Well, I shall head back to Grosvenor Street and collect my things, and I will speak to Miss Elizabeth about introducing her to Georgiana. I know, of course, that you will wish to meet her first."
"I will," Darcy confirmed.
"Then I will speak to both her and her brother about arranging a meeting," Fitzwilliam said.
Standing, Darcy accompanied his cousin to the door, and there they departed. Fitzwilliam had apparently not arrived on a horse, as he walked away toward Grosvenor Street upon reaching the pavement.
Miss Elizabeth Bingley, he thought. Why had he not recalled her name? Surely Bingley had mentioned her. However little he knew of her, Fitzwilliam appeared to know her very well, or he would not have recommended her as a potential friend to Georgiana. He hoped fervently that she really was a much kinder, less supercilious creature than her sisters, whom he personally thought were vapid and shallow. Remarkably, their brother was the complete opposite, and had become such a steadfast companion that Darcy had found himself willing to tolerate Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst for Charles Bingley's sake.
-...-
It was soon determined that each man's business matters prevented any meeting for some days. As it turned out, however, they had all of them been invited to a private ball at the home of a mutual acquaintance, Mr. Edmund Hiddleston, whose mother had chosen to celebrate his eight-and-twentieth birthday with a grand party in his honor.
Darcy had come close to declining the invitation, as he did not like to leave Georgiana alone in her present state of mind, but upon receiving a note from Bingley that he would be introducing his youngest sister to his friends there, he decided to endure the crush of mammas and their daughters who would vie for his attention even though he was not the guest of honor.
It was at such times that he almost wished his family had not been quite so fortunate. While many of the young ladies introduced to him over the years were from good families with their own fortunes, he was entirely certain that his fortune and the prestige associated with his name and connections were the only reason they sought to make themselves agreeable. Too many women he could not find interesting enough to get to know better would certainly be at this party, for Mrs. Hiddleston was as eager to get her son married as her friends were eager to marry off their daughters.
Darcy sighed deeply as his carriage drew up to the pavement outside the Hiddleston residence, in an attempt to shore himself up for the long evening to come.
Fitzwilliam, who sat across from him, laughed. "Thunder and turf, Darcy, you'd think you were preparing to go into battle with how tense you are."
"Theodore, you know how little I am equal to recommending myself to strangers," Darcy said as he alighted from the carriage. "I have never been comfortable in a room full of people I do not know, much like my poor sister."
"Well, do not worry, cousin, I shall help you find your ease," said Fitzwilliam as he clapped a hand on his shoulder. "It may have been four years since I set foot in this country, but I still know just about as many of these people as you do, and those I do not know, I will seek introduction to that I may then introduce them to you."
They started for the door behind a man and woman Darcy did not recognize. "Mrs. Hiddleston will no doubt require us both to dance."
"And I have every intention of obliging her—besides, I have promised Miss Elizabeth I would dance with her," Fitzwilliam told him.
"Why am I not surprised that you have not attended a ball in four years, yet you already have a partner?" Darcy observed drily.
Fitzwilliam lifted a finger. "I have not attended a ball in England in four years," he corrected. "We had balls in Spain, though they were admittedly few and far between. And I can tell you from first-hand experience, Darcy, that Miss Elizabeth is a most excellent dancer."
"Cousin, you know I do not care to dance unless I am intimately acquainted with my partner," Darcy complained. "I will not know the lady myself."
His cousin scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, and nobody can be introduced in a ballroom," said he.
They soon gave their names to the caller and their arrival was announced. Privately, Darcy had always disliked the practice and saw no reason for it—at least at a private ball where everyone in attendance had been invited.
They made their way through the receiving line, where Fitzwilliam's return to England was celebrated by those who knew him. Hiddleston, who bred horses on his estate, was quick to advertise to both the colonel and Darcy that he had some "prime horse flesh" available were either of them in the market for a new mount.
"Why am I not surprised that even at your birthday celebration, Hiddles, you are peddling your wares?" Fitzwilliam chided him.
Hiddleston laughed. "What can I say, old friend? Horses are my passion."
"Say, is our friend Bingley here yet?" Fitzwilliam asked then.
"No, not as yet—and I eagerly await his arrival, as he sent me a note that he would be introducing his youngest sister, who has been abroad these four years in Spain of all places," Hiddleston replied.
Fitzwilliam grinned and flashed a look at Darcy. "I know, they are relations of my commanding officer, and she was companion to their aunt until our return last week. I was under orders to escort the lady safely to her brother's door or die trying."
Hiddleston raised his eyebrows. "Indeed? What is she like? Is she pretty?"
He leaned closer. "And pray tell me she is more agreeable than the other two—I swear I cannot fathom how Bingley and his sisters came from the same stock."
"I cannot imagine it, either," Fitzwilliam agreed in a conspiratory tone, "and I've only known the elder three Bingleys a week."
"Edmund, dearest, you have other guests waiting," said their hostess.
Hiddleston grinned sheepishly and turned to his mother with a slight bow. "Of course, Mother, do forgive me. Good evening, Mrs. Charleston, Mr. Charleston…"
Darcy and Fitzwilliam moved further into the ballroom and met with a few more of their mutual acquaintances before the caller announced the arrival of the Bingleys.
"There she is, Darcy," Fitzwilliam said, gesturing to where the party were paying their respects to the Hiddlestons.
He could not see Miss Elizabeth's face from where they stood, but if Hiddleston's countenance could speak it would surely be shouting his pleasure; a wide smile lit the other man's features like a dozen candles as he spoke with the youngest Bingley sister.
"Hiddleston seems to be enjoying their introduction," Darcy observed.
Fitzwilliam laughed. "Just wait your turn, Darcy," he said. "You'll get your chance to bask in the beauty of Miss Elizabeth Bingley soon enough."